"I shall want thee this afternoon, Hugh," he said. "And what foolishness is
this on thy head, wife? Art thou going home in this guise?"

"It seems an innocent prettiness," said Pemberton, while my mother, in no
wise dismayed, looked up with her big blue eyes.

"Thou wilt always be a child," said my father.

"_Je l'espere_," said the mother; "must I be put in a corner? The _bon
Dieu_ hath just changed the forest fashions. I wonder is He a Quaker,
Friend Pemberton?"

"Thou hast ever a neat answer," said the gentle old man. "Come, John, we
are not yet done."

My father said no more, and we boys were still as mice. We went homeward
with our mirth quite at an end, Jack and Wilson leaving us at Fourth
street.

In the afternoon about six--for an hour had been named--I saw my aunt's
chaise at the door. I knew at once that something unusual was in store, for
Mistress Wynne rarely came hither except to see my mother, and then always
in the forenoon. Moreover, I noticed my father at the window, and never had
I known him to return so early. When I went in he said at once:

"I have been telling thy aunt of my intention in regard to thee."

"And I utterly disapprove of it," said my aunt.

"Wait," he said. "I desire that thou shalt enter as one of my clerks; but